The Fire
by Sarah the Welsh One
Summary: The end of the world comes. Will Buffy die for the final time? And does she secretly want it?


Disclaimer: I categorically state that it was very, very wrong of me to go down the path of using a song by a genius like Billy Joel in such an obvious and morally decrepit way. I accept that I am an evil, evil person and that I will be punished for many years in hell. (Hopefully with whips... but let's leave that part out for now. :-p)  
  
THE FIRE  
  
((We didn't start the fire, it was always burning since the world's been turning  
  
We didn't start the fire, no we didn't light it but we tried to fight it))  
  
See, it doesn't matter how you imagine the end, cause it's always so different from whatever you had pictured in your head. Me personally? I saw the hands of Satan reaching out from the portal that opens the hellmouth and grabbing me, throwing me into eternal hellfire and damnation. I guess when you think about it this is kind of what that is. If you use the fire as a metaphor for Satan's hands, it's reaching up to drag all of us down. Metaphor? I guess I did learn something in high school after all. Mom would be so proud.  
  
Yeah, there are good points about this apocalypse. Not many, but a wise man once said, the glass is always half full. Maybe only a quarter now though. Mom's not here to burn and be ripped apart by crazy demons, which is good. Neither is Dawn, which doubles the goodness and makes it gooder. Gooder? Scratch that comment about high school. All my friends are dead, which in a strange way is also good. Cause they're not going to suffer any more. And Angel is dust, which hurt me like anything, seeing as how it occurred at the end of my stake. I didn't want him to hurt. Spike either. I killed them both. I guess hell really is my kind of place.  
  
Can you feel the heat? It's so pretty, if only I had the time to sit back and look at it. I'd like to.  
  
Sunnydale is burning to the ground, and its inhabitants can only sit back and think how pretty it  
  
is. Like a sunset, in a way. The sun is setting on the world. Goodbye, au revoir, don't cry for me  
  
Argentina. Farewell, farewell, auf wiedersehn goodbye. It's time to go and leave you all behind.  
  
I used to watch that movie every Christmas with my mom. And Dawn, but she wasn't really  
  
there. That is so weird, when I think about it.  
  
This fire's always been there. Since that time when the sun first set on the world, the embers  
  
were scattered beneath the surface of the earth and have flickered there ever since, until today,  
  
when they burst into light. I don't know, maybe some lighter fuel leaked or something. I don't  
  
wanna start talking like one of Giles' prophecies. This is amazing. Really. Because, you know,  
  
being the Slayer, the apocalypse was always kind of at the back of my mind. Lingering. But I  
  
never thought of fire. It's like that Billy Joel song. "We didn't start the fire, it was always burning  
  
since the world's been turning." I don't think he was talking about Slayers and vampires and  
  
apocalypses, but still. He was so right. I hope he's holed up in his mansion somewhere, writing a  
  
song to commemorate the end of the world. That would be kind of cool.  
  
I'm so tired. My physical stamina, that has hardly ever failed me over the years - The Slayer  
  
Years. It sounds like a secret Government file, or maybe a TV show, like the Wonder Years.  
  
Yeah, cool. And Britney Spears could do my voiceover, if she's not too busy. Wait, no, that's  
  
trashy. Someone distinguished, like Audrey Hepburn - wait, no, she's dead. Okay, then maybe  
  
someone cool like -  
  
Anyway, it doesn't matter now. The TV show is never going to be made, the book is never  
  
going to be written, and I'm never going to get to star in the movie of my own life. Which sucks!  
  
Because I've done heaps for these people. I saved their asses a dozen times, though they didn't  
  
realise it. And there's not even going to be a Buffy magazine! Not even a measly website. A  
  
bookmark with my face on it? A pencil sharpener? Work with me here.  
  
Anyhow, soon as I stop I'm dead, and it's not that which is stopping me, but the fact is that if I  
  
die now my name is never going to be on a billboard and I'm never going to get to appear on  
  
Oprah and talk about my new aerobics video. Isn't that a crack? At the end, pure vanity is what  
  
keeps you alive. Well, in that case, Cordelia should survive an eon or so longer than the rest of  
  
us. "But I never got a modelling contract!" Well ha, ha, ha, Cordelia, no point crying over spilt  
  
milk. Except the milk never got into the bottle. Oh, all these metaphors are so confusing! I feel  
  
like Harmony. My brain has turned to sawdust. Am I dead yet?  
  
Nope, still fighting. This body is so weary. I hope in the next life, I get one with more stamina.  
  
Only I'm not going to get another body. Another life. Because the world's burning. This is it. The  
  
end of everything. When I'm dead I'm dead. No more billboards, movie theaters, TVs, books.  
  
No more trees. No more flowers. No more cute little bunnies. No more Angel. Oh my God,  
  
what have I done?  
  
I killed Angel. This is the end. Even if I get through this there's no one left and man - or woman  
  
- cannot survive by bread alone, and that's not even a choice I can make because all the bakers  
  
are either dead or turned by now. Oh, for God's sake. This is so unfair! I never even made it to  
  
Canada. Life sucks.  
  
Stop now.  
  
Stop, Buffy.  
  
I can't.  
  
But I will.  
  
Soon.  
  
((No, we didn't start the fire  
  
But when we are gone, will it still burn on, and on, and on)) 


End file.
